


And the Stars Went Out

by demiksmith



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Mass Effect 2, eventual Mass Effect 3, flashbacks to Mass Effect 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiksmith/pseuds/demiksmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard died an Infiltrator and awakes an Adept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on Shepard, based loosely on the games and my play-throughs.

A swirl of black, speckled with white light. Silence, save for the desperate gasping. Pain, a sense of forced emptiness. Fear, true fear, for the first time in so long, and then relief. It would be finished, after this. No more struggle, no more pain, no more loss. The speckling of light began to fade, breathing began to stutter, falter, lungs drawing desperately for empty air, the vacuum rendering them useless. Pain had overwhelmed, leaving her numb. She slid down, into the blackness, a tendril of fear piercing the acceptance as the stars were extinguished one by one.

“Shepard, get up. This facility is under attack.”

She awoke, pain blinding and bright bringing her round even before the clipped voice spoke. Sitting up felt like fire, burning her side and arms. Her head throbbed, her sight blurred, and her ears rang, but she stood. She almost collapsed as she stepped away from the table, legs unsteady, muscles weakened. She stumbled toward the locker the woman on the intercom indicated, barely able to open the door as her hands trembled. She shook her head, an attempt to clear her sight, before stopping abruptly, dizziness overwhelming her. She felt inside the locker blindly, keeping her eyes closed as she struggled to control her nausea. Her armor, she thought with wonder, before pulling it out a piece at a time. She struggled into it, fingers not as nimble as they should be, feeling the added weight of her hard suit more keenly than ever before. Finally suited up, she stumbled toward the door, listening as the speaker directed her to a pistol on the floor.

“It’s out of clips.” She ground out, voice harsh and unused. She swallowed convulsively, trying to ease the roughness.

“There will be some in the hallway, take cover I’m opening the door.”

She dropped behind a crate, wincing as her body struggled to bear the weight of her hard suit. Her head throbbed still, a steady beating pulse that seemed to be focused on the back left side of her skull. She reached back carefully, wondering if there was a wound. She felt a bump, and smooth metal, buried in her hair. She ran her fingers over it carefully, confused, before sudden comprehension made her jerk her hand away.

“What did you _do_ to me?” She snarled viciously, clenching her hands. The grip of the pistol creaked in her grasp as she struggled to bring herself under control.

“We can talk about it later. Right now I need you to get to the escape pods.”

She stood abruptly, suddenly uncaring about the current situation. Striding through the now open door into the hallway beyond, she bent to scoop up a magazine from the floor. Loading it into the pistol, she moved down the hall to the next doorway, ignoring the woman speaking, showing bare interest as the feed cut off, leaving her alone. She could hear the security mechs approaching, and felt sudden fury. She had been free from this, she had been removed from this, but someone decided to bring her back without asking. She had been dragged back into a world of fear, blood and death just as she had been set free. Stepping around the corner, she felt a surge of energy, felt her rage become tangible, and flared her biotics, knocking the mechs down with enough force to keep them down. She dropped to her knees, weak suddenly, and felt ill. Not only had they brought her back from death itself, they had _experimented_ on her. Her suspicions about the metal implant in her skull had just been confirmed. Whoever these people were, they had somehow made her a biotic. They had exposed her to element zero, and had outfitted her with an amp. She was a biotic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chance meetings leave Joker contemplating his commander's morbid humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another glance into the Mass Effect universe residing in my head. Enjoy!

He came upon her working in the starboard lounge. The couch she sat on was littered in data pads, and an empty mug sat on the floor next to her. She had headphones in, and was swinging her bare feet in time to the music. She looked up and smiled at him in greeting, before returning to work. He sat on the unoccupied couch, facing the observation window, but watching her from the corner of his eye. With each swing of her feet he could see a flash of the black ink that marked them. Her pants were rolled up beneath her knees, exposing pale skin. Pale, but not like his, he decided. More pale gold than paper white. He watched as she twisted to grab another data pad, typing one-handed on the one in her lap. The sleeves of her shirt were pushed back to her elbows, but refused to remain there. He watched as they slid down, lower and lower, until they covered her hands. She made an exasperated noise, before rolling them tightly past her elbows.   
  
'One would think,' she began, voice wry. 'that with all that time they had me on their table they would have at least thought to check my size.'  
  
That startled a laugh out of him, the morbid humour a shock and a relief, indicating that his commander was starting to move past it, or at least accept it.   
  
"Well, you are ridiculously tiny for a marine, let alone an N7.' He said, grinning to lessen the sting.   
  
"Well why do you think I was an infiltrator?" She asked with a laugh. "Long rifles give me a long reach. So what if I'm a foot shorter than most, give me a gun and you won't be noticing the lack of height."  
  
Her grin turned predatory, giving him shivers. "And besides, these idiots turned me into a biotic. Not only a biotic, but a fucking Adept. Think they're regretting it yet?"  
  
The blue glow that heralded biotic use appeared around her, and everything on the couch and floor near her rose a few feet.   
  
"That's without trying. Who knows what trouble I'll be able to get up to once properly trained." There was a bitter note in her humour, and he realized that she must still be shaken about her sudden biotic capabilities.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archangel comes to terms with the Commander. Garrus reunites with Shepard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that toooons of the dialogue is straight from the game. This was not an adventure in laziness, but rather an attempt to dissect the emotions that all parties involved were likely feeling. Enjoy!

The sudden crack of the rifle had the young man jumping behind her, shaking. His grip was weak on his poorly made weapon, and he wore inadequate armour. She had tried to tell him not to come, but he had waved her concern off. Jacob glanced her way, an eyebrow raised at the man sheltering behind her. Zaeed barked a laugh, muttering something about a puppy. She shook her head, stepping away from the young man.

“Go back.” Her voice was firm, the snap of command ringing loud. The young man flinched before straightening.

“Like hell. I know what I’m doin’. Just get out of my way and I’ll show ya.” His voice was filled with false bravado. Zaeed’s snicker was louder this time.

“Come on, Shepard. The kid clearly ain’t listening to reason. Let ‘em get his head blown off.” Zaeed’s drawl seemed to rile the young man up even further.

“I’ve got this far, I’m going in.” With that, the young man stomped away. She sighed, running a gauntleted hand through short hair.

“That really necessary, Zaeed?” Her tone was exasperated, and she sounded tired. “Come on, let’s get going.”

 

After a quick detour to hack some security mechs of varying sizes, and a well-placed welder, the group met with the distraction team. The young man arrived with them, passing his weapon hand to hand, and shifting his feet. When the team got the go-ahead, he vaulted the barricade, landing heavily between two armoured mercs. He brought his weapon up, began to sight, and promptly collapsed, a bullet in the head. Shepard landed from her vault as his body dropped to the ground, a quiet ‘damn it’ her only comment. Zaeed landed next to her, gun already in hand. Jacob came after, watching the mercs ahead keenly.

“Well, that happened a hell of a lot faster than I expected.” Zaeed said as he toed the young man’s corpse. “The lad didn’t even get a shot off!”

“Have some respect.” Jacob said, his voice cutting and laden with disapproval. “He might have been an idiot, but now he’s dead.”

“Exactly. He got what he deserved for ignoring our fearless leader’s advice.” Zaeed was grinning at Jacob, who turned away with a grunt.

“Behave, boys. We have a job to do.” Shepard cut in, leading them across the bridge. “On my mark.”

Zaeed and Jacob fell in beside her, waiting for the cue. Shepard raised her right hand from its position on her gun, then flicked her fingers forward. All three opened fire on the unsuspecting mercs ahead. She moved into the mnemonic for _throw_ just as Jacob used _pull_. The resounding biotic explosion did most of the work, sending mercs flying. Some fell from the bridge, while others were thrown into the pillars dotting the bridge.

 

“She’s with Archangel!” One managed to choke out, mouth already filling with blood. The warning did little good, as all were dead or dying. Shepard walked towards the merc, who was trying desperately to open his omni-tool to send the warning to the others. She paused, meeting the dying man’s eyes, before stepping deliberately on his arm. He cried out, lashing his free arm on the ground around him, trying to find a weapon. She applied pressure, let her weight move forward. The armour creaked, and his cries grew higher.

“Don’t toy with the man. Put a bullet in his head or I will.” Zaeed hissed at her as he passed, helping Jacob confirm that all the others were truly dead. She looked up at him, green eyes far away, before nodding. She aimed her gun and pulled the trigger without ceremony, stepping away from the corpse toward the entrance to the apartments.

“Like a fucking cat, that one. Plays with her food.” She heard Zaeed mutter to Jacob, who recoiled from the older man.

“What the hell, Massani. What does that even mean?” Jacob’s voice was just as hushed, the tone urgent and upset.

“It _means_ don’t give her reason to make you prey, yes?” Zaeed’s tone held a note of finality, and he moved to follow Shepard. Jacob remained in the doorway, eyes focused on the merc Shepard had executed.

“Look alive, Taylor.” Her voice rang out, irritation clear. “We have things that need doing.”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied as he jogged up. Zaeed was leaning on the staircase behind Shepard, who was checking her ammo reserves.

“Massani with me, Taylor, you’ll be down here. I need eyes on these doors.” Her voice was clipped, and brooked no argument. Even though Jacob didn’t like the idea, he offered a smart salute, a quiet apology for slacking moments before. She nodded, before turning away. She and Zaeed climbed the stairs, quickly falling out of sight.

“Ya think splitting up is a good idea, lass?” Zaeed muttered at her six.

“I doubt Archangel will like seeing Cerberus logos everywhere. We want him to trust us.” She replied over her shoulder. They were moving quietly, and quickly came to the door that separated them from Archangel. “Stay here, and keep in touch with Taylor. I need to know if those mercs figured another way in.”

“Going alone, lass? No offence, but I don’t think that’s yer brightest idea to date.”

She laughed. “You haven’t known me that long, Zaeed. This doesn’t even _register_ on the scale of my bad ideas. Besides, you’re just outside the door if I do need a dramatic rescue.”

Zaeed shook his head, but kept his peace. She nodded once, before opening the door and walking into the room.

“Archangel.” Her voice was firm, commanding and loud. First impressions, and all that.

The armoured turian raised a hand, before returning it to his rifle. She tensed, but remained still. He fired a shot before turning from his perch, the rifle held high and in an obviously safe position. He set it down gently, before lowering himself onto the back of the couch. He pulled his helmet off, the movements stiff but practised. He put his feet up, leaned forward and stared her down.

“Shepard.” His voice was rough, and she thought she heard a tinge of disbelief in the flanging quality of his speech. “I thought you were dead.”

“Garrus!” She cried, stepping forward to grip hands with her old friend. She took the chance to look at him, truly _look_ , and saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines in his face. He was still the same old turian, _her_ turian, but he looked older, and moved as though he carried a great weight. “What are you doing here?”

“Just keeping my skills sharp.” His voice was wry, but exhausted. It worried her. “A little target practise.”

She wanted to ask if he was hurt, if he needed her help, if he need extra ammo, or someone on his six. She wanted to know how he got here, how he became Archangel, if he had mourned for her. She wanted, desperately, but couldn’t risk it. Jacob and Zaeed had both entered, once assured from her reaction that Archangel was a friendly. She didn’t think Jacob would spy on her, but she couldn’t risk her friend.

“You okay?” She settled with, bile burning in her throat. She hoped Garrus would know, would understand the forced distance. She ran her eyes over his armoured frame, looking for damage or blood. He seemed alright, considering, a few scrapes and dents in the armour aside.

“Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face.” He met her eyes, and she knew he had understood. Likely the Cerberus logo plastered on Jacob had been enough warning. “Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own.”

“So when did you start calling yourself ‘Archangel’?” She found herself asking, just pleased to be speaking with someone she knew from before.

“It’s just a name the locals gave me,” He paused, mandibles shifting in a way that read humour. “for all my good deeds. I don’t mind it, but please. It’s just ‘Garrus’ to you.”

She laughed, relieved. Her friend had retained his dry sense of humour, apparently. “What are you doing out here on Omega?”

“I got fed up with all the bureaucratic crap on the Citadel.” He paused, glancing at his rifle. “Figured I could do more good on my own; It’s not like it’s hard to find criminals here. All I have to do is point my gun and shoot.”

“How’d you manage to piss off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems?” She asked, trusting Garrus would tell her the entire story at some later date. She was worried about him, about his dejected demeanor, the slight self-deprecating note in his dual-toned voice.

“It wasn’t easy, I _really_ had to work at it.” He almost sang, his voice light and amused. He gave her a knowing glance. “I’m amazed that they teamed up to fight me. They must _really_ hate me.”

“You nailed me good a couple of times, by the way.” She replied, digesting his self-deprecation as she shifted. She wondered what could have happened to him, and was struck by the sudden realization of just how long two years could be.

“Concussive rounds only, no harm done. Didn’t want the mercs getting suspicious.” He said, looking at her. He didn’t tell her that the first shot was made in hopes of dispelling an illusion, nor that the second one was to keep her in his sights a little while longer.

“Uhuh.” She crossed her arms, giving him a look he tentatively identified as exasperated humour.

“If I wanted to do more than take your shields down, I’d have done it.” His voices was serious, as was his gaze. He decided not to ask about the scene he had viewed, the swirling blue of biotic energy that had engulfed her frame. She would tell him about it when she was ready, he supposed. “Besides, you were taking your sweet time. I needed to get you moving.”

“Well, we got here, but I don’t think getting out will be as easy.” She glanced out the window, eyes searching the bridge. He rose from his seat, snatching his rifle from the floor before waving a hand at the view.

“No, it won’t. That bridge has saved my life, funneling all those witless idiots into scope. But, it works both ways. They’ll slaughter us if we try to get out that way.” He turned back to her, wondering how she would save them this time. She turned, pacing a small distance, and he took the time to study the two men who had accompanied her here. He thought he recognized the older one, but couldn’t be sure without checking his files. The younger one stood in a sloppy military parade rest, eyes following Shepard’s every move. Ex-Alliance, maybe, he thought idly.

“We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come to us.” The ex-Alliance spoke up, stepping forward.

“It’s not all that bad. This place has held them off so far, and with the three of you, I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defences, and take our chances. It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s a plan.” He replied, unsure if he would be crowding Shepard’s leadership. She surprised him, however.

“I didn’t like sneaking anyway. Time to spill a little merc blood.” She said with a vicious grin, more of a snarl than anything.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed.” He said dryly, giving her an exasperated look. “Let’s see what they’re up to.”

He approached the window, gazing at the far side of the bridge through his scope. He made a displeased noise, before turning slightly. “Looks like they know their infiltration team failed. Take a look. Scouts, Eclipse, I think.”

He passed the rifle to her, startled by her lack of height. He compared the view to a vast collection of memories, and realized that she hadn’t changed. He supposed he just remembered her taller, with that biting personality and all. He wisely decided not to mention these thoughts when his good friend Shepard was carrying a rifle, and figured he’d tell her later over a drink.

He almost jumped when she fired the rifle, guiltily wondering if she had guessed his train of thought. Looking back to where he was supposed to be keeping his attention showed a downed mech, lacking its head. “More than scouts. One less now.”

“Indeed.” He replied, accepting the rifle as she passed it to him. “We’d better get ready. I’ll stay up here. I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You… you can do what you do best. Just like old times, Shepard.”

She looked at him, expression strange and unreadable. They both knew how hollow that phrase had rung, but neither wanted to call it out. Things wouldn’t be the same, not ever again. She had died, and he had left everything behind, and failed. But she didn’t know that, not yet. He would hope he could keep her friendship once she learned of all his mistakes. She looked away first, grabbing a heavy pistol from her hip, checking its ammo.

 

A heavy mech was dropped at the mouth of the bridge, right in front of the barricades. He cursed his luck, and kept an eye on it while waiting for the other boot to drop.

“They’ve reinforced the other side… heavily.” He sighed, wanting to sit down. “But they’re not coming over the bridge yet. What are they waiting for?”

A muffled explosion and blaring alarms gave him all the answer he needed. “Damn it. They’ve breached the lower level. Well, they had to use their brains eventually. You’d better get down there, Shepard. I’ll keep the bridge clear.”

She looked at him, gaze sharp. “I’m not leaving you alone. Jacob, stay here. Your biotics will help. Zaeed, with me.”

“I don’t think-” The ex-Alliance started, before Shepard was in his face.

“No, you _don’t_. That was an order, Taylor. Watch his six. I want him alive and healthy when I get back, or its your hide on the table.” She snarled, teeth bared. It surprised Garrus, that ferocity.

“Yes ma’am.” Taylor saluted, face carefully blank.

“Come on, Zaeed. We’ve got some rats in our basement.” She grinned at the old merc, who looked exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah. Lead the way, lass.” The pair left quickly, Shepard shooting a glance over her shoulder once before they slipped from sight.

Garrus sighed again, not looking forward to this fight. Taylor stood stiffly where Shepard had left him, staring straight ahead.

“I’m not your commanding officer. Do whatever it is you normally do. Though keeping an eye on the stairwell would be appreciated.” Garrus kept his tones dry and amused, hoping to lessen any sting.

Taylor shook himself, before nodding. “I can do that. I’m a biotic, too, like the Commander mentioned. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Got it.” Garrus settled down in his perch, eyeing up the targets. He heard Taylor moving around the room, probably searching for a good vantage point. Garrus hoped Shepard would be quick, he wanted to finished with this. He could hear shooting from below and behind, heralding Shepard’s travels. He picked off approaching mechs while keeping a careful eye on the heavy mech. It began its approach, and he called to Shepard.

“So… what are we going to do about that thing?” He drawled, working at sounding unconcerned and relaxed. There was a pause as Shepard dove for cover.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll take care of its self.” Her voice was breathy, and she sounded unconcerned.

“What?! Have you gone mad?” He all but squawked. This was the first instance he actually felt concern that this might not be his Shepard. Then, the heavy mech turned around and fired on the Eclipse mercs in the nearest vicinity. He laughed, shocked and pleased.

“All those hacking lessons of yours really paid off.” She sounded delighted over the comm, and he grinned. This _was_ his Shepard. He settled more comfortably into the battle rhythm after that.

They had worked through every enemy that presented itself. Taylor’s biotics were quite useful, pulling foes out of cover long enough to put a bullet in, or scattering a tight knit group to buy time. Garrus had just called Shepard, telling to come find him before the next wave made itself known. She appeared, jogging through the doorway, Zaeed close behind. Her short hair was ruffled, likely from her own hands, and she moved easily, indicating she was free from injury. Garrus grinned at her, a flaring of his mandibles, and she bared her teeth in a smile.

“I think we can make a break for it.” She said, holstering her heavy pistol. She glanced out the window across the bridge, watching for movement. “We should be able to take out whoever’s left quite easily.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think we could make it. Let’s head-” The roaring sound of a helicopter cut him off, sending the four of them diving for cover. “Damn it, I thought I had taken that thing out!”

“We met the mechanic, doubt he’d have been able to get up after the blow she laid on him.” Zaeed replied, crouched a few feet away, using his head to indicate Shepard. She was kneeling beside Jacob, ignoring him in favour of sneaking glances at the copter.

“They’re dropping troops!” Jacob called over, alerting Zaeed and Garrus to incoming threats.

“Damn it, that thing’ll take us out while we’re stuck dealing with these bastards.” Zaeed swore, looking between the two threats. Garrus hissed under his breath, not sure how they were going to pull this off. He glanced over to Shepard, and felt his breath catch. She was swathed in the blue glow of her biotics, her arm pulled back in the mnemonic for _throw_. Her arm thrust forward, and her biotics sent half of the invading troops off the window’s edge, into open air. He watched Jacob draw on his biotics, and together the two cleared out the threat. Garrus rose, intending to join Shepard when the helicopter returned. Its guns took out his shields easily, and he cursed his stupidity.

“Garrus!” He heard her voice, heard the fury even as he slipped to floor, and started the slow slide into blackness. The pain was horrifying, because it didn’t ebb. He was struck suddenly, by a terrifying idea that this was death; constant pain for the rest of eternity. He saw silhouettes move past, and in the darkening room saw her, her small form wrapped in blue as she stood over him. She looked down, and he could see the fear in her eyes, then saw her resolve. She moved out of his field of vision, and he tried to call her back, not wanting to slide into black alone.

He felt the rumble of an explosion, rather than heard it. Then hands were on him, turning him gently. He tried to open his eyes, tried to say something, but the pain was too much.

“Help him.” Her voice was desperate, shaking. His eyes cracked open, the blackness swallowing almost everything now. He tried to speak, to say her name, but all he managed was a small groan. “Hold on, Garrus.”

He would try, he decided. He didn’t want his Shepard alone. He would hold on. For her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okeer's prodigy awakens, and gains his footing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, lots of dialogue from the game. Just working on getting into Grunt's head. Enjoy!

A loud hissing noise woke him. Glass Mother shuddered around him, crying out. Her tears that had nourished him drained away quickly, and he shivered in the sudden cold. Glass Mother fell away, and he stumbled from her weak embrace, landing heavily on his knees. He choked, sputtering the last of Glass Mother’s blood from his lungs, gasping deeply on unfamiliar air. A slight figure stood before him, still and waiting. He rose, rushing the individual. He crushed the small, fleshy form into a hard surface, _wall_ , Okeer whispered. He stared at the fleshy thing, _human, female,_ Okeer murmured.

“Human, female.” He repeated, his voice raw and unused. “Before you die, I need a name.”

She looked up at him, one hand resting on the arm he had across her throat. She smelled unimpressed, and he could not sense fear.

“I’m Commander Shepard of the Normandy.” Her voice was even, unhurried. He was grudgingly impressed by her composure. Okeer’s memories had indicated that humans were weak.

“Not your name; mine. I’m trained, I know things, but the tank… Okeer couldn’t implant a connection. His words are hollow.” He paused, thinking of the whirlwind of knowledge that floated in his head. Knowledge he had been given, not earned. He had no experiences of his own, not yet. The human was watching him, eyes guarded and serious. “Warlord. Legacy. Grunt. ‘Grunt’ was among the last. It has no meaning. It’ll do. I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me.”

“Why do you want me to try to kill you?” Her voice was stern, hard even. Her eyes narrowed, a threat, he supposed. He dug through his not-memories, trying to find what information Okeer had left about human body language.

“Want?” He replied, digging furiously, trying to decide how to interpret the small female’s actions. “I do what I’m meant to. Fight and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I _want_. I feel nothing for Okeer’s clan or his enemies. That imprint failed. He has failed. Without a reason that’s mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you.”

“I took you and I released you. Follow my command and you’ll have purpose.” Her voice was harsh, and she leaned forward, pressing against his arm. Her eyes bored into his, the green of them startling. Her actions confused him, for she was the one in danger, not he.

“Nothing in the tank imprints indicated that humans could be so forceful. You command as though you’ve earned it.” He worked to keep the respect from his voice. It wouldn’t do for her to know.

“My enemies threaten galaxies.” Her eyes were troubled as she said this, and he wondered at what she spoke of. Her voice was sharp as she continued. “Everyone on my ship has _earned_ their place.”

He paused at that. “That’s… acceptable. I’ll fight for you.”

Her voice was wry. “I’m glad you saw reason.”

He looked down at the sudden pressure in his side. The small female had a gun in her right hand, the muzzle pressed firmly into his flank.

He laughed. “Offer one hand, but arm the other. Wise, Shepard. If I find a clan, if I find what I… I want, I will be honoured to eventually pit them against you.”

He bowed his head to her, a concession to her use of wit, before turning to walk back to the shell of his Glass Mother. Shepard remained where he had left her, watching him carefully.

“Let me know if you need anything.” She said, her voice warm and amused, before leaving. The doors hissed shut behind her, and he turned to face where she had stood. Impressive female, that one. He hadn’t once smelled fear or uncertainty on her. A single spike of adrenaline, but that was to be expected in a warrior. He only hoped she would be as impressive on the field as she was in her own ship. He leaned against the table before pulling up the extranet. He figured he should start learning his _own_ knowledge, to be better prepared for whatever enemy Shepard was going to throw him at.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Horizon. Garrus does his best to be there for Shepard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horizon irritated me immensely, especially the BS Kaidan pulled. I had romanced him my first playthrough, and felt like I had been punched when he turned into a dickbag. Ugh. Anyway, here is Shepard dealing with Kaidan being a jerk, and Garrus being collateral damage. Enjoy!

Her fist slammed into the elevator wall, leaving a sizeable dent. She hissed a breath through clenched teeth, knuckles barely spared by her gauntlet. He shifted next to her, trying to move discreetly out of her path. She turned to face him, lips pulled into a snarl.

“Easy, Shepard.” He tried to lay a placating hand on her shoulder. She twisted away, posture stiff. He tried to think of other times he’d seen her like this and drew a blank. Her back was ramrod straight, shoulders pulled back. Her hands were clenching and unclenching, and she paced the small area in short, concise strides. She was barely containing her fury, and he wasn’t sure what he could do for her. The doors opened to the top floor, and she made to storm out. He took a breath, before thrusting his arm across the opening. He hit the button for the cargo level, and used his superior size to back her into the corner.

“What the _hell_ Vakarian.” She spat, teeth bared, eyes flashing with anger.

“Indulge me.” He kept his tones dry and amused, studiously ignoring the flaring of Shepard’s biotics. He could feel the humming in his back teeth, the buzzing at the edge of his hearing, the smell of ozone. His adrenaline had spiked the moment he stepped into her path, and he was resisting the urge to back away from her threatening gaze and biotic flare. The doors opened to the cargo hold, and he backed away quickly, banking on her charging him. She did, coming at him with more force than he’d expected, but surprisingly without her biotics. She was small, but knew where to hit to get the most effect, not to mention fully aware of the effect her bulky armour had. She launched herself at his midsection, driving her shoulder straight into his chest. He went down hard, landing on his arm. He pushed himself up as quickly as he could, his armour restricting his speed. She was on him before he made it to his feet, straddling his waist, one first drawn back, the bright blue of her biotics engulfing it.

“Shepard!” His voice was sharp, the flanging, dual-tones of his voice indicating pain and surprise. She was shaking, breathing rough. She stood suddenly, stepped away from his prone form. Her biotics flared, brilliant blue, swirling around her figure, leaving an after-image burned into his retinas. She started peeling off armour, dropping it carelessly to the side. He rose stiffly, before following suit. Once both were stripped to their under-armour, she passed him quickly, leading him to the sparring mat. He took up stance, facing her back. She finally let her biotics fade, before turning to him. She struck out immediately. He flinched, barely able to dodge her first strike, before retaliating. She didn’t bother to dodge, letting his fist land a glancing blow across her collarbone. She moved within his reach, a sharp elbow to his ribs forcing the air from his lungs. He hissed, mandibles pulled tight to his jaw, before jumping back. They fought like that for countless minutes, only stopping when she stumbled, and he dropped to the mat.

“Feel better?” He gasped, glancing up at her. She stood from sheer force of will alone, sweaty and shaking. Blood dripped from her nose, and he could already see bruising forming on her collarbone and arms. He wasn’t much better off, and could taste blood in his mouth. She shook her head once, before dropping to her knees next to him.

“No. Thanks.” She muttered, leaning against him. He felt himself relax, recognizing this side of his Shepard.

“Wanna talk about it?” His voice was sly, and she huffed a laugh, swinging a hand at him futilely.

“Shush, you overgrown chicken.”

“Again?” He drawled, dragging the vowels out. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

She laughed again, relaxing into him. He shifted so she leaned against his chest, an arm draped casually across her shoulders. They had sat there for some time, content in the silence and each other’s company.

“Sorry.” She said finally, her voice soft. She twisted, glancing at him, before sighing, running a hand through short, sweaty hair. It stuck up, spikey, and he laughed. He brushed a hand over it, flattening it, bringing it closer to its usual semblance.

“I get it. Don’t worry.” He replied, voice still laced with humour.

“No.” She said, leaning away from him, meeting his eyes. “It wasn’t fair, or right of me. It’s just… The colonists… and I didn’t expect to see Kaidan, didn’t expect him to…

“He’s a boshtet.” That startled a laugh from her, bringing forth a grin of his own. “We got there as soon as we could. You can’t blame yourself. We’ll get them back. I mean it. And Kaidan? He was out of line. He claimed he knew you. Then he should have known this _was_ you.”

“But what if he’s right? What if I’m not Shepard, but a clone? A VI?” She asked, voice troubled as she settled against him once more. He squished her to his side, noting the exasperated noise she made as he did.

“I’ll admit,” He began, voice dry and amused. “That short hair of yours _really_ threw me when I first saw you.” She elbowed him, gently, conscious of the bruising she’d dealt earlier. “Hell, your biotics were the most questionable part. But once I saw you face to face I knew.”

He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction he was taking the conversation.

“You knew?” She asked, voice quiet and unsure. He was struck by how young she sounded.

“Yep. That cocky attitude gave it away.” He kept his voice light, thinking of how to explain without getting awkward. “Your movements, your stride, the way you clear a room. The way you handle your weapons. It’s all you. Thought I was hallucinating when you first walked into my sights, hence the concussion round. When you shook it off and glared my way, I shot again, just to keep you there a little longer. I was worried I’d dreamed you up.”

She was smiling at him, tired but happy.

“Thanks, Garrus.” She said warmly, bumping him with her shoulder. “I’m lucky I’ve got you.”

“Huh, surprised you feel that way, considering the recent beat-down session.” He replied, bumping her back, chuckling. She rose slowly, stiffly, stretching before leaning down to lend him a hand. He stretched, groaning loudly.

“Easy, old man. Can’t have you breaking anything.” Shepard laughed, nudging him. He placed an arm over her shoulders, letting her help him to the elevator.

“This is all your fault, you crazy woman.” He grumbled good-naturedly. They limped past their collective pile of armour, eyeing it as though it was dangerous. “You think we can pass this off on someone else?”

“Talk about an abuse of power. Who would I order to do it?” She laughed, pausing near the pile.

“Miranda?” He offered, giving her a thoughtful glance. “Joker? Whoever’s on the shit-list this week?”

“And if that happens to be you?” She asked, bemused. They parted, bending to pick up their armour. They cleaned each piece quickly, placing them in their respective lockers.

“Oh, you wound me, Shepard.” He feigned at fainting, before throwing his rag at her. She caught it, laughing at him, before putting their cleaning supplies away. Rising, she leaned into him once more, before leading him to the elevator.

“I think I owe you a stiff drink.” She said, tone mild yet serious. He knew she hadn’t forgiven herself for roughing him up, though to be fair, he knew he had landed an equal amount of blows on her slight frame.

“Trying to sweet talk me, Shepard?” He tried to play cool, but knew he failed when she burst out laughing.

“Come on, big guy. Shower first, drinks after. Let’s go.” She steered him into the elevator, still at his side. He stayed right next to her until she deposited him on the crew floor, heading up for a shower of her own. As he limped toward the men’s washroom, he let out a relieved sigh. While he didn’t plan on getting beat up, he was glad Shepard felt comfortable enough with him to share. He showered quickly enough, stifling groans whenever he touched a bruise or stretched too far. Once dressed, he hobbled to the starboard lounge. She was there, sitting at the bar, short hair still wet.

“Hey.” She said, spinning on the stool to look at him. She was dressed in oversized, plain black clothes. He distinctly recalled Joker making a comment about sizing issues a while back, and figured this was what he’d been talking about.

“Did you shrink?” He asked brazenly, risking her ire. It was his lucky day, because she merely shook her head in exasperation, before indicating to the drink she’d poured for him. He settled on the stool to her right, stiffly. He took a cautious sip, before nodding in approval. “So it appears you aren’t a lost cause. I figured your lack of cooking talent would translate into a lack of beverage mixing talents.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Cause you’re so perfect.” She stuck her tongue out at him, a behaviour he wasn’t familiar with. He debated about pulling up an extranet search or just asking her, and settled for the latter. He figured it would be fun to watch her try to explain a strictly human behaviour.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tali and Shepard reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the little bromance my Shepard and Tali have. I wish Tali had a dlc mission like Liara's Shadow Broker dlc. I reaaaally loved her character. Enjoy!

“Meet me in my quarters once you’re settled.” Her voice was even, though hints of exhaustion were there.  Tali nodded, before turning back to the workstation in front of her. Fifteen minutes later, when she had finally worked up enough courage, Tali made her way to the elevator. Waiting for it to open, she found herself tapping a nervous staccato beat on her arms. The doors opened, revealing Garrus.

“Hey Tali, how are you?” The turian asked, his tones warm and friendly. They had greeted each other earlier, but not properly. Tali shook his proffered hand, smiling.

“Garrus. I’ve missed you. I’m glad to see you.” She tilted her head forward, before leaning over to tap the button to the captain’s quarters.

“Going to see Shepard?” Garrus asked, more of a comment than a question. He turned to face her, head tilted inquisitively.

“Yeah…” She trailed off, suddenly hit by a surge of uncertainty. “Garrus… Is it really her?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes lost in thought. “You really have to ask?”

She flinched, even though he had spoken softly, kindly. She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

“Look what she just did for you, Tali. She’s our Shepard.” His voice held a quiet conviction.

“She has biotics now, Garrus. That doesn’t just _happen_.” She voiced her concern, crossing her arms as she leaned away from him. He pulled his mandibles tightly to his face, glaring at her through his visor.

“I know you’ve spoken with Liara. She told you what happened. Cerberus had no right to experiment on her, but they brought her back. _They brought Shepard back._ ” He had stepped toward her as he spoke, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Can’t that be enough?”

He pulled away, rubbing a hand along the injury on his cheek. She realized she still didn’t know how he’d got it. He looked tired, moved stiffly, yet had been impassioned when he spoke about their commander.

“Talk with her. You’ll see.” He said finally, as the door opened to the CIC. He walked out, not looking back. She sighed, waiting for the doors to close once more. The trip to the top floor felt much faster than it should, and she was left watching the doors slide open before she had thought of how to start the conversation. Stepping out timidly, she stared at the final door separating her and Shepard. She began to pace, unsure what she should do. She finally squared her shoulders and approached the door. She knocked, and heard a muffled ‘come in!’ through the door. Keying the panel, she stepped in to the captain’s cabin. Shepard was nowhere in sight, so Tali moved further into the cabin, pausing to stare at the fish.

“Hey, sorry. I was in the shower.” Shepard said from behind her, startling her. The commander was wrapped in a towel, her short hair dripping. She smiled at Tali, warm and familiar. “Grab a seat, I’ll just be a second.”

Tali nodded, sitting on the couch as Shepard moved further into the room, pausing to grab some clothing before retreating once more to the bathroom. A few moments later, and she returned, dressed in plain black, slightly too-large clothes, the towel sitting on her head. She rubbed it over her hair absentmindedly as she approached, smiling still.

“Damn, it’s good to see you.” She said finally, dropping the towel on the edge of her bed. Tali looked at her uncertainly, startled when Shepard pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ve been worried about you, not going to lie.”

Tali was stiff, resisting the hug, before she finally collapsed against her friend.

“You were d-dead. You died! How? H-how?” She cried against Shepard’s neck, her grip tightening around the commander’s form, as though afraid to lose her hold. Shepard’s own grip tightened, pulling Tali closer still.

“I’m here now.” Shepard said gently, pushing far enough away to meet Tali’s eyes. Tali leaned close again, unable to meet the steady gaze of her friend.

“I was so worried it wasn’t you. I thought… I thought you were a clone. A VI. A… an imposter.” Tali sobbed against Shepard. “I was so busy being worried it wasn’t you that I didn’t pay enough attention to see that it _was_ you. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, Tali. Hell, _I’ve_ worried I wasn’t me.” Shepard paused, scrunching her face in thought. “I think that was the strangest sentence I’ve said yet.”

Tali laughed, relaxing against Shepard, who slung an arm over her shoulders. Tali looked at her friend, focused on the faint red scars lining her skin. She had seen them earlier across her face, but hadn’t realized that they had webbed across the rest of her body. The short hair was also different, but the bright green eyes were the same. Tali remembered when she had first run into Shepard on Freedom’s Progress, when Shepard’s eyes had glowed red. That had shaken her, seeing this ghost of her friend before her. The scars had been more vivid, then, and being flanked by Cerberus personnel had not eased Tali’s worries.

“I’m sorry.” Tali said suddenly, glancing at Shepard. “I wasn’t exactly polite on Freedom’s Progress, was I…”

Shepard laughed, surprising Tali. “You think I could blame you? I show up out of nowhere, Cerberus goons in tow, looking like a creature from a bad monster movie, and what, expect you to welcome me with open arms? Nah, I get it Tali. I was just glad to see you with my own eyes, to know that you were alright.”

Tali shifted, looking down at her hands. She twisted them in her lap, searching for the right words.

“Veetor’s doing alright, well, all things considered.” She grimaced, knowing she wasn’t doing a good job of explaining. “But he’s doing better than we expected. Thanks for letting me take him back to the Flotilla.”

“It was what he needed.” Shepard’s voice was firm, and she sounded just like Tali remembered. “It wouldn’t have helped to drag him into a Cerberus scheme.”

“And… for today. I don’t know how to thank you.” She studiously avoided looking at Shepard. “You saved Kal’Reeger. He means a lot to me. I thought they had all died. And because of me. But you saved him. Thank you.”

She hid her face against Shepard’s neck, glad of the warm embrace her friend offered.

“He’s a good soldier. A little foolhardy, but what can you do. I just wish we could have been fast enough to help the others on your team.” Shepard’s voice was low, sad. Tali started crying again, softly this time, knowing in her heart that this was her Shepard.

“Thank you, Shepard. Just… thank you.” Tali tightened her arms, sniffling. She felt Shepard’s hands on her back, rubbing back and forth.

“Hey now, that much crying can’t be good for your suit.” Shepard’s voice was teasing, light. Tali chuckled, sitting up.

“Forgive me for not believing you right away. I feel horrible that I left you alone with Cerberus.” Tali’s voice was soft.

“Garrus was with me, pretty soon after I saw you on Freedom’s Progress, actually. I don’t blame you for anything, Tali. Though, to be fair, having your tech skills on hand would have spared me quite a bit of time on a few missions.” She said with a laugh. Shepard’s speech was easy, friendly. Tali felt better, knowing that Shepard held no grudge.

“What, Vakarian couldn’t hold up under the challenge?” Tali teased, laughing at Shepard’s misfortune. “And here I thought he was more capable, especially after all the bragging he did.”

“Nah, Vakarian’s next to useless. I just keep him around for something to laugh at.” Shepard’s voice was wry.

Tali’s omni-tool beeped. “Just recorded that. Thanks for the ammunition, Commander.”

Shepard groaned, covering her face with a hand. “You’re going to lord that over me forever now, aren’t you.”

“Yep!” Tali chirped, grinning. “Or I might cash it in for a favour at some later date.”

“You are conniving. And here I thought I was comforting an old friend.” Shepard pouted, nudging Tali with her elbow.

“Two birds, one brick, I think.” Tali replied slyly.

“Two birds, one _stone_. Nice try.” Shepard said, her voice dry. “Come on, you horrible excuse for a quarian. Let’s grab the equally horrible excuse for a turian for some food and a few drinks. Maybe we can convince our horrible pilot to join in.”

“Now, I _know_ for sure it’s you!” Tali laughed as she stood, pushing Shepard as she also tried to rise. “You buying?”

“Ha! I was going to take the lot of you to the starboard observatory bar, not off ship!” Shepard chuckled as she pushed Tali back.

“Uhuh, I think I could show something to a certain turian that may or may not change your mind.” She leaned into Shepard as they walked toward the door. Shepard groaned, before shoving Tali again.

“You’re a jerk. Geez, and I was looking forward to having you on the _Normandy_ again.” Shepard laughed, pulling Tali into the elevator. “Send a message to that turian jackass and our idiot pilot. We’ll set a course to Illium. Strictly for booze. Happy?”

“Very.” Tali replied, grinning at her friend, relaxing. This was Shepard, the same Shepard who had rescued her years ago on the Citadel. The one who brought her out on almost every groundside mission. The one who had welcomed her into the original _Normandy_ with open arms and a big grin. The Cerberus part stung, but Tali understood. She would stand at her friend’s side until the end. She only regretted that it had taken her this long to recognize her Shepard.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subject Zero joins the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for the kudos and subscriptions! Also, please feel free to leave any comments! This is my take on Jack. I'm rather fond of her, so expect to see quite a bit more of her in the future! Enjoy!

A sharp hissing heralded the opening of her cryo-tank. This was familiar, welcome, even if the burning pain that accompanied it was not. The air hit her skin, and she shuddered violently, her skin crawling as though to escape the hold of muscle and bone. She breathed in, too quickly, taking pleasure in the rattle of breath in her throat. She forced open her eyes, glaring as she waited for her sight to return. The metal walls of her miniature prison fell away, revealing blinding white.

She snarled, unknowingly, face twisted in a mask of rage. Something was different, this time. She wasn’t as numb as she should be. Feeling flooded the rest of her, and she tore free of her restraints, stumbling as weak muscles struggled to support her. She grinned viciously, knowing what was different now. The fools had left her amp in. Her biotics flared to life as her ears popped, hearing suddenly restored. Three large mechs approached, and she charged them, a scream of fury leaving her lips. Her fist smashed into the main circuit of the first mech, causing it to short out. Her biotics _pulsed_ , and she screamed again because it felt _good._ Alarms were blaring, and she could hear someone shouting orders over the intercom.

She dodged a missile, cursing her lack of focus, before grinning manically. She escaped the hold through the massive hole the missile had created, dodging live wires and jumping over debris. Gunfire drew her forward, stoked her anger into rage, then further into fury. She burst through the doors into the cargo hold, biotics bright. She drew fire almost immediately, and put more energy into her barriers even as she raced forward. She hit the first guard with a _throw_ , the second with a glowing fist to throat. She landed a biotic powered kick to the throat of the first man, grinning at the sound. She reined herself in, barely, knowing she would need to _think_ if she hoped to escape. More gunfire came from behind her, spurring her onward. She killed whoever (whatever) crossed her path, using biotics and muscle to do so.

She finally reached the docking bay, only to shriek with renewed fury. A Cerberus ship hung in the inky black of the viewport. A guard approached, gun drawn. She flared her biotics in response, but jerked when the man crumpled from a shot over her shoulder. She spun around, lips pulled back in a snarl, and stared down her unwelcomed rescuer. Three people stood before her, a small human woman, a tall turian male, and a grizzled human man. Their armour was professional, and their weapons were military grade, or better. The woman led, holstering her weapon slowly. The two males behind her lowered theirs, but kept them in hand. The woman approached, slowly, as though not to startle her. Jack snarled, biotics flaring even brighter. She jerked in surprise when the woman flared her own biotics in reply.

“Can we cut the pissing contest, lass? I’d like to get off this boat before Alliance vessels show.” The human man drawled, his tones lazy and accented. The woman laughed, and her biotics faded. The turian shook his head, sighing. Their behaviour made Jack unsure, so she kept herself on edge, biotics rippling around her.

“I’ve got the only way off this ship, and I’m offering to take you. Shall we get going?” The woman’s voice broke through Jack’s cluttered thoughts, dragging her forward to the task at hand: escape.

“You’re with Cerberus. Fuck that.” Jack spat in reply. The woman before her sighed, rubbing a gauntleted hand through short hair.

“Is she stupid? Hell, let’s just knock her out and go.” The human male scoffed, gesturing with his gun. Jack stiffened, snarling more viciously now. The turian groaned this time, drawing her attention.

“It might come to that, at this rate.” He muttered to the human male, mandibles flaring in what Jack read as a grin.

“Are you coming?” The woman ignored her companions, green eyes focused on Jack alone. Jack paced, unnerved by the woman’s steady gaze.

“You have files, Cerberus files. I want full access.” Jack bit out, glaring at the Cerberus vessel with each pass of the window.

“You’ll have them, so long as you share any dirt you find.” The woman’s answer stopped Jack suddenly, her head whipping back to meet green eyes. “We have a deal?”

Jack paused, briefly, before nodding.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here, ladies.” The human man barked, making his companions laugh.

“I’m a lady too?” The turian replied, falling in step with the woman. His dual tones were dry and amused, his mandibles flared even further, in a bigger grin than the last.

“The prettiest lady.” The woman replied, barely keeping her face straight. Jack was doubting the intelligence of joining this group, but figured it was better than staying on the prison ship. The four entered the airlock to the Cerberus vessel, and Jack forced herself to remain still.

“I’m Commander Shepard, and this is the _Normandy_. Welcome aboard. If you’ll follow me this way, we can get you access to those files, and find you a place to sleep.”

The woman was small, but moved with confidence, spoke with assurance that her orders would be followed. Jack pegged the woman as ex-military, and considered what could have pushed this woman who was friendly with turians into Cerberus. They passed a salarian, who greeted them with a quick ‘Shepard’ before walking away. The woman had nodded in reply, not pausing. So, friendly with turians and salarians, _and_ involved with Cerberus? Something wasn’t right here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is retrospective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So this is the first Mass Effect 1 flashback. Please enjoy, and I hope it isn't too confusing the way I have laid everything out! Comments are welcome!

He saw movement from the corner of his eye, and resisted the instinct to turn. Humans, he thought, forcibly tamping down the tinge of disgust. He flared his mandibles at his superiour, displeased with the verdict he was given. He didn't want Saren to escape this. The three humans stopped near him, their leader a small, pale female.

"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian, C-SEC." He introduced himself quickly, pleased when his dual-toned voice came out smooth and professional, lacking any hostility or disgust.

"Pleased to meet you." The Commander replied, her face blank. Human expressions weren't the easiest to read, but it was obvious the small female was composed. Her voice, however, was pleasant, if professional.

He explained how his investigation had been shut down by his superiors, keeping a close watch for the tells he had picked up from his human coworkers. Her eyebrows had drawn down as he spoke, and her lips had tightened. Green eyes met his blue, unflinchingly. She crossed her arms, and shifted her weight, leaning away from him as she processed what he had told her. Her scent was carried on the slight breeze, an unusual mixture of mint and copper.

"That's the trouble with superiors, sometimes. You did well, from the sounds of it however. We will do our best to keep investigating." He couldn't detect any false tones in her voice, and found himself flattered by her brusque and straight-forward method of speech.

"Commander, the council's ready for us." The dark haired male to her left said, looking up from his omni-tool. He sounded nervous, likely from being in the presence of a turian, Garrus suspected. That irritated him, and he barely kept from flaring his mandibles in his displeasure.

"Well, it was good to meet you." She extended a hand as she spoke. He stared down at the strange five fingers, before extending his own three-fingered hand. "We will do our best to get Saren."

"I hope so. That bastard deserves to pay." He replied, startled at opening up to not only a stranger, but a human. She nodded, before stepping past him.

"Vakarian, right?" She said, looking back. Her green eyes were striking against her pale skin, and her long blonde hair hung in loose sheets about her. She was striking, in her black armor against the pink trees of the Tower.

He found he couldn't speak, so he nodded instead. She smiled, red lips curving slightly, before she continued up the stairs to the council.

 

Garrus thought he scented her, once more. The mint and copper that was  _her_. He shook himself, lifting his head slowly, conscious of his stiff neck. He shifted his rifle against him, and glanced out the window to the bridge. No mercs yet, thank the spirits. If he had to die this day, at least he had seen her once more, if only in memory. He rose, lifting his rifle and helmet. Slipping the latter on, he grimaced. Shepard was dead, and he was likely to join her soon. That thought should not have comforted him, yet it did. He settled into his perch as the mercs began another advance. Soon.

 

He jerked awake, almost falling off the couch. He groaned, the flanging sound loud in the small space. He glanced over, and saw Shepard propped up between Grunt and Tali. She was sound asleep, and looked at peace. He groaned again, rubbing a hand across his face, mindful of his wounds. A dream within a dream. That sounded like some old movie Joker had been prattling on about in the last few days. He looked out the observation port, and decided he was too sober to be reflecting on his recent past. He rose stiffly, almost falling over in surprise when she spoke.

"I think you've had enough for tonight, big guy." She sounded tired, her voice hoarse. Garrus looked at her, pinned beneath one of Grunt's massive arms, and laughed.

"And what exactly do you plan on doing to stop me from over there?" He flicked a mandible in a quick grin, enjoying the way she smiled back.

"Didn't you drink enough on Illium?" She complained, trying to maneuver herself from under Grunt without hurting Tali. "I know I did. Hell, I don't think Liara eased up on me at all."

"Why would she? You're a biotic now, twice the tolerance, if all the rumors and boasting are true." He replied easily, leaning against the bar.

"Ha, I've not been the one boasting or inciting rumors. But,  _biotics_ , you say." She grinned wickedly at him, and his pulse jumped. She was suddenly wreathed in blue, and he watched in awe (horror) as a baby (not really) krogan floated toward him. "Much better."

She stood, looking pleased with herself. Grunt still floated gently between them, brushing against the ceiling with each breath.

"Uh, you gonna let him down?" Garrus asked, skeptical. She just laughed, before raising a hand to grab at Grunt's elbow. She pulled him slowly to the couch Garrus had vacated before releasing Grunt just above it. The baby krogan landed softly, considering, and continued to sleep. "Impressive."

She smiled tiredly. "Jacob and Miranda have been giving me lessons in my down time. Jack likes to yell at me while we spar, so I do pick up some from her. And each time we're groundside I have an excuse to practice on hostiles."

"Impressive." He repeated, for it was. "I had understood that training took years. You're lucky you're picked it up this quickly."

"I'm blaming Miranda and the cybernetics for that." She laughed, walking toward him. "She's worse than my old drill sergeant." 

He slid a drink toward her as she settled on one of the stools. She grimaced, before reaching for it.

"What's next?" He asked quietly, some time later.

She sat a little straighter, twisting on the stool to face him. "I think we'll pick up the assassin next. Then the Justicar. Jacob asked for my help with a matter, and we need to hit Tuchanka soon for Grunt and Mordin."

He nodded, finishing his drink. "Logical, we are still near Illium after all."

She grinned. "Thanks to Tali's alcoholism."

He laughed, grinning back. He looked over at the quarian, who lay across the couch unhindered now that both Grunt and Shepard had moved.

"Our party was slightly larger than the four of us, earlier. Where did everyone go?"

She sighed, running a hand through short blonde hair. "Zaeed, bless him, took Joker to bed before he got sick or broke something trying to get there on his own. Jacob was here for a bit, but he left early to bring a drink to Miranda, who declined to join us in our 'rough housing'."

Garrus laughed as Shepard bent her fingers strangely.

"Those were supposed to be air quotations?" He ventured. She shook her head and sighed dramatically, before continuing on as though he hadn't spoken.

"Mordin stopped by, did a rendition of the Scientist Salarian-"

"Oh believe me, I remember that." Garrus cut her off with a laugh.

"-And Jack was skulking about for a bit before retreating to her lair. So that's the ground team plus our _darling_ pilot."

Garrus shook his head, before glancing at Shepard. She appeared to be having a difficult time staying upright. He stifled a laugh, knowing she would hurt him if he made his humor known.

"Shall I help you to bed?" He offered instead, struggling to keep his expression even and voice clear of humor.

She scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you  _propositioning_ me, Vakarian?"

"Hardly," He drawled, his voice dry and amused. "I just thought the Commander of the  _Normandy_ would prefer to fall asleep in her own bed with dignity rather than at the starboard bar with her subordinates."

She laughed, the sound clear and bright. She stood, steadier than he'd have guessed, before offering him a hand.

"Fine. But only because it fulfills your gentlemanly needs." She winked at him, startling a laugh from him. She had explained some human behavior, including winking, sticking one's tongue out, among other things, but he was always surprised when he was able to read and understand the body language. 

"Come along, before the XO gives you a drunk and disorderly." He wrapped his hand around her much smaller one, pulling her gently toward the elevator. She laughed, resisting lightly, and he grinned. She was alive. He was alive. Things might not be perfect, not with the Collectors looming over them, but he had this for now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Justicar and the Commander spend some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for the patience between chapters! I've had school all summer in an attempt to get my degree on time, so I unfortunately have had to put all of my energy into writing essays and papers instead of stories. Hopefully, now that I've only got one class on the go, I will be able to post more regularly! Please enjoy, and feel free to comment!

“I wanted to thank you, Shepard.”  Samara’s voice was quiet, but strong. She approached slowly, eyes downcast. Shepard turned from the kettle, a mug in hand.

“Want some tea?” Shepard replied, gesturing with the mug. Shepard was watching closely, and saw the quick twitch of the asari’s lips.

“If there is enough water. If there is not, do not trouble yourself.” Samara spoke, her voice wry. “I know what you are attempting.”

“Do you?” Shepard’s voice was warm as she turned back to the cupboards. A brief flare of her biotics brought the tea canister from its perch on the top shelf to her waiting hand.

“You are becoming more skilled, I see.” Samara commented, walking closer. She leaned a hip against the counter to watch the Commander.

“Thanks in part to you.” Shepard glanced over, a half-grin on her lips. She poured the hot water over the tea bags, barely paying attention, yet stopping the flow just before it ran over the edge. “Thanks for that, by the way. It’s been much easier with your assistance.”

“You have other skilled biotics you name friend.” Samara stated, watching as Shepard twisted around, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Samara glanced at those arms, at the dark ink that marked pale skin.

“True, but I count you among them. Different perspectives, skills and training have gotten me to this point. Don’t discredit your efforts.” Shepard smiled, her green eyes warm.

“Friend?” Samara paused, considering the aspects and qualities of the woman beside her. “I would welcome that distinction.”

“Well, good. Now, how do you take your tea?” Samara shook her head, amused despite herself. She watched as the Commander removed the tea bags, and poured a somewhat ridiculous amount of sweetener into one of the mugs, before sliding the other one toward Samara.

“I did not realize you liked hot liquid sugar, nor that you claimed it to be ‘tea’.” Samara’s voice was a parody of seriousness, and she struggled to keep her expression from changing to one of bewildered disgust as she fixed her own mug to her liking.

“Pfft. I need more sweets now. It’s either the cybernetics or the biotics. Maybe a bit of both.” Shepard’s voice was light, and she managed a laugh, but Samara could see the shadows in the Commander’s gaze.

“Shall we?” Samara indicated toward the starboard observation room. Shepard nodded, following close behind. Samara settled on one bench, leaning to face the Commander. Shepard had sat on the second bench, both hands wrapped around her mug. She faced forward, elbows resting on her knees. Samara sipped her tea quietly, deciding to wait for Shepard to be ready to continue.

 

“How are you holding up?” Shepard asked quietly, some time later. Her gaze remained on the mug, her posture unchanged.

Samara glanced away, looking out into the black expanse, realizing there could be multiple reasons for the Commander’s sudden disquiet. She wondered if Shepard had trouble with the stars.

“Tell me, first: do you remember –“ The asari gestured with her free hand toward the observation window, eyes never leaving the Commander’s form.

Silence was the only answer, for quite some time. Samara waited, finding that she needed this answer.

 

“Yes.” The Commander said simply. Another long pause followed, broken by the movement of her head, glancing up and out. “I dream of it still.”

Samara bowed her head, contemplating the trauma Shepard must have endured.

“I have no fear of them, but I am in no rush to return to their embrace.” Her voice was stronger this time, more sure. Samara looked over once more, and saw the Commander’s face. It was as she had said: no fear marred those pale features, but there was a great deal of respect in those green eyes. Eyes which now turned their gaze on her.

“So? How are you doing?” Shepard asked, her voice easy and friendly. There was concern in it, Samara decided, but also kindness. If Samara was not willing to speak, the Commander would leave her be.

“I mourn for the loss of my smartest, strongest daughter. I am ashamed of her actions, her killings. I am proud of her strength and character. She was beautiful. I love her, for all her sins. And she is gone, by my hand. As it should be.” Samara’s eyes slid shut, remembering her daughters as children, before the horrible news of ardat-yakshi. She remembered them as maidens, remembered them before the duties of a justicar drew her from them. “She was all that is best in me.”

 

The Commander had shifted when Samara had begun speaking, sitting in such a way as to face the asari. She did not interrupt, nor did she offer empty platitudes. After some time of silence, Shepard shifted slightly, drawing Samara’s eye.

“If the mood ever strikes you,” Shepard began, glancing away. “I would be glad to hear of your daughters, and of your time together.”

That kind note was there again, a curiosity, a genuine interest, but also the knowledge that such interest might not be welcome. Samara was grateful for such diplomacy.

“I would like that.” Samara replied, looking back out at the stars. “I think you would get along with them well, Commander.”

 

A sudden beep from Shepard’s omni-tool prompted a groan.

“It’s my turn to babysit Grunt during target practise.” She explained, voice apologetic, as she rose.

“That sounds –“ Samara paused, considering her words. “Entertaining?”

Shepard laughed. “It always is, with a chance of danger. Biotics are useful with him. He thinks it’s _fun_ to get hit with a stasis, let alone a singularity.”

Samara chuckled, her tone wry. “Then perhaps I will volunteer in the future. Tossing a baby krogan around will be a good change in routine.”

“By all means. I’m pretty sure Miranda is about to mutiny.” Shepard reached for Samara’s now empty mug. The asari relinquished it with a nod of thanks. “Jacob’s almost as frustrated. Keeps saying he’s worried Grunt will shoot him instead of the targets. Garrus seems to have the most fun with it, even without the aid of biotics.”

“Does Jack participate?” Samara asked, amused.

Shepard choked out a laugh. ‘That’s not happening. Not for a while at least. We need the shuttle bay in one piece.”

“Take care, Shepard. Thank you, for the tea.” Samara said over her shoulder as she settled on the floor. She called forth her biotics, to begin her meditations, noting as Shepard’s reflection raised a hand in acknowledgement on her way out the door. As the doors slid shut behind the Commander, the justicar gave the barest of smiles.

 

It was nice to have a friend.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commander is being watched. The Assassin is doing the watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure how to introduce him, but I figured this method would work as well as any other. I know the timeline is skipping around a bit, but it should make sense in the next few chapters. Enjoy!

He had watched her stride boldly through the police tape, her posture strong and sure. The asari officers scrambled to stop her passage, halting abruptly when their superior shouted her approval. The human female moved forward, undeterred, her companions, a tall turian and a large krogan, following a close step behind. The small group turned the corner, leaving his sight. He paused, wondering if this was wise.

He was moving, quick and quiet, before he fully realized he had decided on a course of action. He followed the path from above, slowing to a stop when the group was once again in view. He settled into the scaffolding of the building, just another shadow. He watched as the group descended the stairs, travelling deeper into the alley. The small female stopped short, a hand raised to slow her companions. He moved further along the scaffolding, seeking a vantage point from which to watch both her group and the path ahead. He glanced down the path, noting the positions of the Eclipse mercenaries. One was lifting a crate with the aid of her biotics, and he could feel the resonance of his own in response. His gaze shifted back to the human, suspecting she too, could feel it.

“Mercs just ahead.” Her voice was soft, controlled. He would not have been able to hear her words, had he not been practically above the group. “Garrus, take out their shields on my go. Grunt, charge them, draw their attention. I’ll handle the rest.”

The turian nodded, pulling up his omni-tool to prepare a series of overloads. The krogan shrugged massive shoulders, grinning widely.

“Ready?” When both turian and krogan nodded, the small woman gave the order, her voice low and sharp. “Now!”

The three moved as one around the corner. The turian’s overloads took out the commandoes’ shields, the krogan’s roar as he rushed them drowned out their startled shouts. His eyes flicked back to her, feeling the hum in his body. She was enveloped in the blue glow of biotics. Her arm flicked out, the motion smooth and practised, casting a _singularity_ in the midst of the Eclipse mercs. They were dragged back into the gravitational field, hanging helplessly. The woman strode forward, biotics still bright. Drawing an arm back, then thrusting it forward produced a _throw_ , setting off a loud biotic explosion. With all opposition defeated, the three pushed on.

He was surprised at the biotic use of the female. His memories of this woman held no indication of such a talent. He followed the group with half a mind, focusing more on what knowledge he had of her.

Her name. Shepard. He didn’t know her first name. Human, female. Alliance. Commander and Spectre. Class: Infiltrator. Saviour of the Citadel. Hero of the Skyllian Blitz on Elysium.

These were the facts he was able to glean from his memories, though he wondered if there had been misinformation. He paused, watching as the turian hacked a door. Infiltrators had no biotic ability, only weapon and tech skills, he mused. He watched the three proceed into the building, waiting for the doors to slide shut before bringing up his omni-tool. He typed in her name, watching as reports of her death flooded the search engine. He was skeptical, having seen her before him only moments ago. Skimming the official Alliance statement, he moved forward, entering the same building through a ventilation shaft.

He slowed to a stop, watching the Commander interact with an asari justicar through the slots of the ventilation unit. He barely paid attention to the conversation, intending to review his memories later. He wanted to know just how the small Infiltrator had become a biotic. Not just a biotic, but an Adept, judging by the _singularity_ he had seen earlier.

He made no move to follow as the group exited the building, more interested in continuing his extra-net investigation. He would know how this had come to be.

One last task to accomplish before the end.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Assassin listens in on a supposedly private conversation. The Commander and Doctor T'Soni catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am jumping around in the timeline. Hopefully it isn't very confusing, but this hints at Samara's loyalty mission, as well as Liara's dlc. This is all leading to a very roundabout route to Thane. Please let me know if you can't follow it easily, and I will rework it :) thanks for the kudos, and please feel free to comment! Enjoy!

He shadowed her over the following days, watching from afar as she and her squad hunted down information for the asari justicar.

“Shepard, I have a favour to ask.” The justicar’s voice was smooth, even, devoid of emotion. He barely paid attention. The Commander, however, looked up and away from a rifle mod booth.

“What can I do for you, Samara?” She sounded genuinely interested, her face and posture open and welcoming. His eyes lingered, moving over her features. What would her hair feel like? He chastised himself for that errant thought, forcibly turning his attention back to the conversation.

“She’s on Omega, Shepard. I can finally put a stop to her.” The asari’s voice was still controlled, but she cut off abruptly, her features tightening.

“We can go right now. Let me just tell Liara, and we can ship out.” Shepard raised her omni-tool, typing quickly. “Maybe there will be leads when we get back.”

He watched the pair walk away, presumably to the docking bay. His own business would not allow him to follow, but he wondered. Their business seemed urgent, and the Commander had spoken with intention to return to Illium. Perhaps his business could wait a few days more.

 

There weren’t many of his kind in Illium, so he took precautions to stay out of sight. He hadn’t been to Illium in many years, but his perfect memory assured he would not encounter any issues. He was sitting in the shadow of a generator, eyes glancing across the crowd below. He had heard rumour of killings on Omega. Not that it was unusual, but the victims were a female human and an asari.

He was skeptical that the Commander or the Justicar were the victims, but he found himself scanning the crowds tensely, waiting for news or a sign of the truth. He felt the tension bleed from his frame as the Commander and the Justicar walked into his view, neither looking worse for wear. He shadowed their movements through the market, toward the asari agent, T’Soni.

“Shepard.” T’Soni’s voice was warm and familiar, and she reached out to clasp the Commander’s hand.

“Hey, Liara.” Shepard’s smile was easy and relaxed.

“Justicar.” T’Soni greeted, her voice polite and reserved.

“Doctor.” Samara replied, bowing her head.

“Come, we can speak in my office, its more secure.” Liara spoke over her shoulder, leading the pair up a set of stairs and out of sight.

 

He hesitated briefly, before slipping into the ducts to follow.

“It’s good to see you again so soon, Shepard. I trust everything went-“ She grimaced, lips twisting. “-Smoothly?”

“As smoothly as it could, Doctor T’Soni.” Samara answered, her voice even.

“Good to hear. Ardat-yakshi are an unfortunate truth. She was your daughter, yes?” T’Soni seemed uncomfortable discussing the topic, twisting her hands brutally, out of sight to the others. Not to him, though. “I have a favour to ask, Shepard.”

The Commander groaned dramatically, leaning back against T’Soni’s desk.

“That’s all I’ve heard from asari since I woke up. Not ‘hey, wanna hang out Shepard?’ or ‘let’s grab dinner!’. Not even ‘how can I help you?’ first!” The Commander’s voice had begun sarcastic, friendly, but as she continued, her voice and countenance hardened. He saw T’Soni stiffen, eyes downcast.

“As your friend, yes, I should be able to drop everything to help you.” The younger asari began to pace. “But I can’t! I have responsibilities now, Shepard! It should be easy for me to help you, but I can’t. Not until I finish my work.”

Her voice had been forceful, harsh, but as she continued, T’Soni’s voice waivered, and he could hear a barely concealed sob.

“Are you in trouble, Liara?” Shepard’s voice was loud in the silence that had fallen. The asari didn’t respond. “Samara, could you excuse us?”

“Of course, Commander. I will return to the _Normandy_ in the event you have need of me.” Samara bowed her head politely, before exiting the office. Shepard was left staring at T’Soni’s back. Silence resumed. Shepard crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg. T’Soni stiffened further at the sound of rustling fabric. He watched both intently, wondering at their relationship.

“Liara-“ Shepard began, only to be cut off by the asari.

“No, Shepard.” She drew a deep breath, still facing away. “You deserve to know why I can’t join you, at least.”

 

The Commander remained still and silent, waiting for T’Soni to continue.

 

“I’m hunting the Shadow Broker.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next steps.

A stunned silence followed T'Soni's admission. Shepard's face was still, composed, but there was a blankness in her eyes. A part of him wondered at his recognition of her behaviours, but soon returned his focus to the Commander. He could feel a residual hum of biotics, as the Commander struggled to rein in her body's response to tension. She clenched her right hand so tightly he could hear the muscles and tendons creak, before forcibly relaxing. 

"Liara, really?" Shepard's voice was quiet, though it seemed as loud as a shout in the still room. Liara released her breath in a long sigh, twisting her fingers viciously behind her.

"I know how it sounds, Shepard. But this is important." Liara had begun forcefully, but her voice had dwindled down to a pleading tone as she finished. "A- a friend, is being held. I need to get him out."

The Commander rubbed a hand across her face, posture relaxing, naturally this time. She sighed, then look up.

"Tell me what needs to be done."

Thane frowned, eyes tracing the determined expression on the Commander's face. The asari had given a tremulous smile, before reaching for a data pad. Thane watched as the two reviewed the information, thoughts distant.

She would face one of the most dangerous entities known in the universe for her friend. An odd woman, to have such dedication. She would face the Shadow Broker's might, and it worried him.

Perhaps it was time to properly introduce himself.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings.

He heard the door pad chime, giving him enough warning to pat the bandage down and back into place. His face was healing, bringing along with it the discomfort of scabs and stretching hide. Chakwas had caught him scratching absently with one talon in the mess at dinner, and had chewed him out about it. He didn't want a repeat of _that_  lecture.

"Hey Garrus, got a minute?" Shepard's voice was a relief, and he visibly relaxed, turning to face her. He leaned against the console, crossing his arms to keep his hands from his face.

"Sure, what did you need?" He cringed a little at the relief lingering in his sub-vocals. He coughed, wincing at the pain and stretching in his face.

She gave him a look (incredulous, maybe?) before proceeding.

"I may need your help, on a ... non-Cerberus matter." She spoke quietly, stepping up right next to him. The hum of the engine room made him strain to hear her. Her intention, no doubt.

"Shepard, are you propositioning me?" He responded at a more normal volume, shifting his brow plate to mimic a raised brow. She laughed at him, shaking her head.

"Just meet me at the bar, Vakarian." Her voice was dry, exasperated. Her eyes were searching though, waiting for an acknowledgment. He nodded, eyes on hers, waving a hand.

"I guess that means shore-leave. I'll beat you there." He gave her a grin, wincing at the way his mandible ached. She nodded, muttering "you're an ass" on her way out.

He watched the doors slide closed, catching himself just as he began rubbing at his face. Garrus sighed, opening his omni-tool. He typed a quick message to Mordin, asking for extra medi-gel, thoughts still centred on Shepard's odd behaviour. He shrugged, deciding to work just a little longer.

 

 

Shepard was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand. She was talking with the bartender, an asari matriarch. She managed to appear casual, even in a full set of armour. He had been worried she would be in civvies, but hadn't wanted to risk asking. He was glad he decided on armour. He walked toward her, fully intending on ribbing her choice of attire for their 'date', when a hand grabbed his elbow, and dragged him into an elevator, barely missing the closing doors.

"Don't." A low voice halted his attempt to reach his pistol. There was a deliberate  _clink_ against the hard armour plate at his side, alerting him to the weapon his assailant held. He raised his hands slowly, wondering if he could activate his omni-blade before he was shot. He tried to turn his head to see the gunman, but heard the  _clink_ once more. Garrus stilled, waiting. 

"Garrus Vakarian. Ex-C-SEC. Archangel of Omega." The voice spoke, detached, as though he was reading a grocery list. Garrus stiffened, a low thrumming of his sub-vocals promising violence.

"Who are you?" He ground out, preparing to activate his omni-blade, getting shot be damned. "Sidonis send you?"

There was a pause, an intake of breath.

"I do not know that name. No, I am not here for you." A chill rushed through Garrus at that wording, and he felt a surge of adrenaline. Shepard.

"You won't be able to get to her through me." He snarled, activating his omni-blade even as he lashed out with his other hand.

He was on the ground, injured side down, in a matter of seconds. He winced at the pressure of the tile against his mandible. His assailant, a lithe drell, had him pinned, a gun in one hand. A shimmery wreath of biotics enclosed his other fist.

"You mean to protect her?" The drell spoke slowly, large black eyes staring unblinkingly. He shook his head abruptly. "No, she will come to no harm by my hand."

Garrus barked a short laugh, wincing again. 

"I wish only to aid her." The drell continued, ignoring the turian beneath him. Garrus tried to shift, stilling immediately at another deliberate  _clink_. "Tell her to be careful of what the asari asked. Tell her.. no. I will come to her."

Garrus felt the pressure ease, and lurched to his feet, swearing viciously when he realized he was alone in the elevator. 

_Shepard_. Sudden fear had him swiping at the elevator controls, his pulse racing, desperate to see if she was alright. The doors opened with a gentle chime, and he strode out into the crowd, gun out but down. When he saw her still standing at the bar, alone save for the bartender, he stopped, holstering his gun with a shuddering breath. 

She turned, raising a hand. Garrus nodded, then started walking over.

 

He wasn't looking forward to this conversation.


End file.
